In Blue
by Jessica237
Summary: She's destined to drown, one way or another. KD. Inspired by recent behind-the-scenes photos; possible mild spoilers for S4.


**Title:** In Blue**  
By:** Jessica**  
Pairing: **Kensi/Deeks**  
Rating:** T**  
Timeline:** General season 4.  
**Summary: **She's destined to drown, one way or another. **  
**

**A/N:** Sparked by some promo/behind the scenes pics from a couple eps down the road. Y'all know the ones. ;)

_For the awesome Angèle. :)_

* * *

The first time is, quite literally, her first time.

Kensi Blye is a city girl. She lives for the fast pace, the thrill, the constant hum of energy radiating from the heated Los Angeles pavement. Constant motion; it's all she's ever known and really, she's quite okay with it. That's why she loves her job so much – there's literally never a dull moment.

Sure, she enjoys the occasional quiet evening soaking in a hot bubble bath before curling up on the couch with a tub of ice cream (always rocky road or chocolate peanut butter chunk or triple cookie fudge sundae – _never_ a boring, bland vanilla) but she could never imagine surrendering to that for the rest of her life.

No, Kensi needs the action.

She's the girl who goes for a 5K run on the beach, rather than spreading out a towel and donning a pair of designer sunglasses before losing herself in the latest book club recommendation, sipping on a girly drink and relaxing away without a care in the world.

Occasionally…maybe.

But day after day? Not a chance in the world.

So she's not exactly _thrilled_ when Hetty hands out their next assignment (though her partner, predictably, beams as if he's won the lottery three times over). She doesn't _protest_, because that's not what Kensi does. But she _does_ subtly suggest that perhaps Nell might fill the part better…though that idea is quickly vetoed due to the analyst's lack of true field experience.

(Maybe she even entertains, for a brief second, the idea of having _Callen_ take her place – after all, as Hetty emphasizes, the cover _is_ a couple meant to draw wandering eyes...and they so absolutely would, she thinks with a silent chuckle.)

In the end, Kensi is the only choice that makes sense for many reasons – including, apparently, that the sight of her in a bikini would catch _any_ red-blooded male's eyes, according to her partner. That'd been an odd statement to make in the middle of Ops, but Kensi had merely shrugged it off, resigning herself to the inevitable. Kensi Blye was, once again, doomed to be chained to the insufferable Marty Deeks.

Hadn't their first fake marriage assignment been _enough_ of a disaster? Kensi had thought surely that Hetty would think twice next time about locking the two of them up together.

And yet, here they are. Here they are, lounging on the beach from sunrise to sunset, enjoying fruity cocktails that just aren't her type of drink at all, indulging in exorbitant dinners at fancy restaurants that Kensi's sure Deeks wouldn't get anywhere _near_ if not for the card with no limit in his pocket. Anything and everything to catch the eyes of their suspects, anything and everything to give the impression that they come from a fantastically affluent background and don't give a damn about how much they spend, as long as it buys them a good time with no effort.

It's just not her lifestyle at all.

Sure, she had enjoyed the first couple days of this. And why wouldn't she? Despite how many times she's reminded her partner of the opposite, this has basically been a government-funded vacation. It'd been nice to relax and unwind for a couple days, but it had grown old quite quickly. _Because_ it's basically a government-funded vacation, Kensi's having a hard time forcing from her mind the thoughts of expense reports and all the debriefings and paperwork already awaiting their return. Then, there's all the paperwork left over from _previous_ cases, paperwork that, more than once or twice, she's let Deeks talk her out of doing in favor of grabbing a beer or two after work.

And then there's the fact that, beyond all else, this is feeling more and more like a dead end case. Kensi's not even sure they're looking at the right people; she's certain their time could be better spent working on new leads than continuing this ridiculous charade.

_Especially_ if she has to spend many more afternoons letting Deeks slowly and carefully rub sunscreen into her back and shoulders.

Yeah. She _definitely_ can't take that for much longer.

It's just _torture._

It's six days into the assignment when Kensi finally breaks. Six days of sun, six days of quiet, six days of lazy yet deliberate gestures meant to show off the glimmer of her expensive diamond ring in the sunlight; six days of innocent yet intimate touches meant to draw attention to themselves as a young, attractive couple in the midst of their honeymoon, utterly in love (yeah right, Kensi thinks) and entirely unable to get enough of each other (which is truly just _hilarious_, she snorts).

Six days of doing nothing, all _for_ nothing.

Almost a full week.

And with every hour that passes, Kensi finds herself getting antsier. She misses her early morning workouts and her doughnuts and cheap fast food; she misses her reality shows and the chaos of her apartment. At least she hadn't had to sacrifice any of that in becoming Melissa several months ago; for this case, she's had to leave every bit of it behind.

And it's driving her _crazy_.

For once, though, it seems she's not the only one.

Pushing her sunglasses to the top of her head, Kensi lazily pulls herself up, groaning slightly as her muscles protest the movement. Her partner has been quiet, oddly quiet for quite some time now, but she doesn't have to wonder too much to know where his mind is. No, she knows exactly what he's thinking. She knows exactly what he's missing.

And one look at his face reveals that he's ready to change that.

He's got that glimmer in his devilish blue eyes, the one she's seen a time or two before during cases that've brought them near the beach. It's that glimmer and the flash of his perfect smile that accompanies the inevitable "_Come on, Kens, just ten minutes?" _or, her personal favorite, "_Hetty will never know!" _Of course, that ten minutes _always _becomes at least an hour and Hetty…well, Hetty knows _everything_. Despite this, despite how many times he's drifted toward the waves during a case, Kensi's never able to say no.

She playfully discourages him – that's all she's able to do. A smile at her lips, it's always a "_You know you shouldn't," _or a "_You know we don't have time, Deeks," _or even a "_I thought you said the last time was the last time!" _Halfhearted ribbing, but never a complete refusal.

(That _damn_ smile of his.)

She knows what's coming before the suggestion even touches his lips – he's been quiet, enviously watching surfers riding the swells, muttering under his breath when he picks out the nuances of the inexperienced ones, the ones who make a tiny mistake at just the most crucial moment and find themselves tumbling headfirst into the blue. She can almost see the thoughts flitting through his tousled blond head; this time, she _knows_ she should say no because they both know surfing technically isn't part of their covers...despite the fact that with a quick rental, they could easily _make_ it part of their cover.

And this _is_ work. They're not here to have fun and, she thinks as she absently twists the diamond on her ring finger, Hetty would not be pleased with them if they did. But then again, the restlessness is eating her alive. She's not sleeping at night because her thoughts race; she's not napping on the beach during the day either. She needs to _do_ something. Something more than assuming this same identity time after time where all she gets to do is sit back and look pretty, because that's how it usually works between them. Whatever Deeks can't score with his smooth talk and his negotiating skills, she scores with her looks, her sexuality.

She doesn't _like_ it, but it works. And whatever gets a case moving, well, that's what it takes.

It's not working here, though, and Kensi's tired of being patient. She's tired of being _forced_ to relax – because who can really relax like that? She's tired of getting dressed up to go out at night so her husband can smile and show off his pretty arm candy in the most expensive restaurants in town. She's restless, frustrated, annoyed. She _needs_ some kind of action, something, _anything_ that might quell this feeling inside of her.

She's an adrenaline junkie, truly. And the utter lack of _any_ action this past week, well, it's driving her out of her mind. So far out of her mind that she knows she won't be able to muster her usual uncommitted disapproval of what she _knows_ Deeks wants to do.

No. This time, she'll be right there with him. "Take me with you."

_That_ gets his attention quicker than any of her accidental (or so she says) proclamations of his skills or his good looks or the claim that she is most certainly his type – and lucky for him, the everyday necessities of their job mean that Deeks has most of those little statements on tape. With this one, though, he doesn't have that luxury and as he looks at her, Kensi sees the slight confusion in his eyes. "What?"

She just shrugs. "You heard me."

He watches her for a moment, just long enough until he's certain from the look in her eyes that she's one hundred percent serious. And that's when the grin breaks upon his lips, serving as all the proof Kensi needs to know that with just four little words, she's probably just made one of his greatest desires a reality.

He's asked her before – begged, even. He's made his intentions crystal clear on more than one occasion; echoing in her ears now is the quiet, silky promise he'd made to her after one of his _secret_ surf sessions during a grueling case. She'd stood barefoot in the sand, definitely _not_ watching him, merely waiting for him to return to her so they could get back to work. She'd put on her best glare of disapproval as he'd made his way back from the waves, his board at his side, droplets of water dripping from the ends of his perpetually messy hair.

_"Do you realize just how much time we just wasted?" she'd questioned him, her arms crossed over her chest in annoyance. _

_Her annoyance had only grown as he'd laughed at her. Really, only Marty Deeks would have the courage to laugh at an angry, irritated Kensi Blye. "Oh, lighten up a bit," he'd quipped, smirking as she narrowed her eyes. "The day is still young – we've got plenty of time." _

_And then, with the end of his board stuck securely in the sand, he'd begun to slowly (a bit too slowly, Kensi had thought) strip his wetsuit away until he was left in nothing more than a pair of surf shorts. And it'd been then that Kensi'd had to look away, because in that moment, not even she would have been able to argue that her partner didn't look damn good; breathing hard from fighting the waves, wet hair all out of place (no she most certainly did not want to get her fingers tangled within it), droplets of water dripping down his neck and over his shoulders, some of them tracing slow paths down his tanned, muscular chest. _

_But the worst moment of all had come after he'd grabbed his towel to chase away some of those stray droplets. Then, he'd looked up; his blue eyes had met her dark ones, and a cocky smirk had formed immediately at his lips. _

_He'd caught her staring. _

_And oh, there was no way in hell he was going to let it go. "You, uh, wanna grab me my shirt for me, Fern?" he teased, draping his towel over the back of his neck before grabbing his board again. "Or…would you rather just keep staring at me?" _

_She'd scoffed with disgust (she'd hoped it came across as disgust) and waved a hand dismissively toward the car. "Go get it yourself."_

_"You just want to watch my sexy self walk up the beach."_

_Kensi had snorted. "No. Definitely not." _

_"You don't have to pretend, Princess." He'd tossed a knowing wink her way then, unaffected by the exaggerated roll of her eyes his comment had garnered. That was okay, he'd thought – they both knew the truth, after all. Feeling quite pleased with himself for not only snagging a surf on the clock (it was better than wasting gas sitting in LA traffic, waiting for a lead to pop up out of nowhere), but also for clearly leaving his partner flustered (oh he'd love to see her try to deny it) he'd begun his leisurely trek up the beach, drifting oh so easily into Kensi's precious personal space as he passed her._

_He'd paused at her side, leaning in so closely that the stray droplets on the ends of his hair brushed her cheek; she'd been unable to suppress a shiver at the sensation, such a delicious mix of the cool of the sea and the warmth of…him. "Just wait until I get my chance to take you…" he'd paused deliberately, letting the breath of his suggestive whisper tease the shell of her ear for a moment longer than necessary before finishing with a smirk. "Out there."_

_He was halfway to the car by the time she managed to find her voice. "That will _never_ happen!"_

_And Deeks had merely snickered, shaking his head as she caught up to him. "Yeah, we'll see about that." _

She's so restless right now that she can't even truly be bothered that, once again, he'd been right. Nor is she bothered by the grin at his lips when he realizes just how very serious she is about this. "You want me to take you…on the waves?"

Kensi rolls her eyes at the deliberate pause in his words – it's just the same as the first time, and clearly he thinks the same jokes _never_ get old. She's about to call him out on it when she meets his gaze – his eyes are lit up as if it's Christmas morning and she's just given him the one thing he's always wanted most.

And really, she knows that's sort of _exactly_ what she's done here.

Why it means so much to him, she'll never really know. Then again, that's not entirely true – their rela- _no_, _partnership_ is laced heavily with competition, victors and losers, the conqueror and the conquered, the best and the worst (or second-best, maybe if Kensi's feeling particularly generous with him). It's a competition that she _always_ wins – _always_.

Maybe it's not necessarily fair, because she does only compete with him at things she _knows_ she's better at. Turning their occasional jog together into an all-out race? Check. Scaling the rock wall in the gym? Check. Those sparring matches that tend to get a bit too heated too fast? Double check. Scrabble? Absolutely. But surfing…she may as well surrender the upper hand to him without a fight at all.

Under any other circumstance, she would do no such thing.

But right now, she's itching for _something._ For action, for motion, for anything more than just another _minute_ lying here in the sand. She _needs_ to move, and if her only choice right now is to let her scruffy partner take her out on the waves, well, she'll take it.

She attempts a nonchalant shrug, but the grin dancing upon her partner's lips (oh that maddening grin of his, _damn_ that maddening grin) tells her beyond a shadow of any doubt that he sees right through her façade. "I'm bored," she relents quietly, digging her toes restlessly into the sand. She leans close, looking to all the rest of the world like no more than a besotted bride sharing a secret with her new husband. "Come on, _babe_," she teases, a playful hand on his knee as she drops her voice to a whisper, only for him. "I can't just keep laying here waiting for the bad guys to come over and make the first move…and we don't even _know_ that they _are _the bad guys."

An eyebrow raised, he glances briefly to her hand on his knee, not at all immune to the warmth, the _fire_ of her touch. And it truly _is_ a wildfire, one that spreads rapidly through him, but luckily he's able to conceal it. Luckily, he's able to hide behind the cover and play along, though he knows that this moment (along with others, oh so many other little moments) will visit him once he emerges, once he reclaims the identity into which he was born.

But that's not today, and so Deeks grins widely, snaking an arm around her middle, drawing her close. After all, she _is_ practically _begging_ to do something he's been trying to get her to do for over a year…okay, well maybe not _begging_. But close. And for that, well, he can't really hide the glee that wells up inside of him. "So my beautiful bride wants to learn how to surf," he muses, nuzzling playfully at her temple. "

Kensi shivers, but blames it on the breeze. Just the breeze. "Who says I need to _learn_?"

Deeks snorts. "_Please_," he scoffs, his grin of glee shifting rapidly into a smirk of superiority. _Damn him_. "You've never been on a board in your life."

She wriggles out of his grasp and shoots him a glare, though it's hardly menacing when he sees right through it. "You don't know that."

"Well, have you? Because you never told me."

Kensi huffs in annoyance. "I do a lot of things that I don't tell you about."

"What, more Kensi private time?" he lobs back effortlessly. "I thought we were going to be more open with each other, my pretty little California girl. I thought we were going to tell each other things from now on. What kind of partner would I be if you didn't feel like you could tell me things?"

"The kind of partner who doesn't _need_ to know everything," she replies. Glancing toward the sea, Kensi watches a couple of surfers paddle with a wave before hopping almost effortlessly to their feet. She's watched Deeks a few times as well…how hard could it be?

She's always been a fast learner, after all. There's no reason he should know this would be her first time. "I bet I'm better than you."

"I'm sorry, what was that?" He'd heard her perfectly clear, of course, but the magic, he's certain, is in the repetition.

In typical Kensi fashion, she doesn't back down. "I said I bet I'm better than you."

Deeks doesn't miss a beat. "What do you bet?"

He's got her now – he knows it, and he's certain she knows it. The spark of competition between them keeps her from turning down a challenge while at the same time, it pushes him to _keep_ challenging her.

And she, of course, bites. She can't not. "Dinner," she says simply. "If I prove that I'm better, then you buy. If not, then I buy."

It's so ridiculous yet so perfect that it's all Deeks can do not to laugh. "Nice try, but no, because in case you've forgotten, we're still dining on the company dime." He grins. "Which means if you lose, you _pretend_ to take care of dinner, get me drunk, have your wicked, _wicked_ way with me –" Kensi snorts, but Deeks ignores it and carries on; he _knows_ he's already won this battle. "And then I wake up in the morning with no memory of this entire day because you slipped God only _knows_ what into my drink at dinner, meaning that you, once again, will manage to wiggle your way out of losing a bet to me. Well, not this time, sugar. Nuh-uh. Not happening."

"Oh, like you've got a better idea?"

He beams. "I do, actually. And I think my proposed winnings are _much_ better than just a single dinner." Pausing for a moment, he flicks his tongue quickly over his lips. "If you're right, and you're better than me, then you get to hold that over me forever. You can mock me in the bullpen to Callen and Sam, which you already do everyday anyway, but that's not the point. I will even throw in doughnuts, every morning, on my tab, for a year. And if you're really that much better, I'll throw in a year's supply of Twinkies too."

"For a year, huh?"

"Yup." The smile on his lips is completely carefree – he's not even the tiniest bit worried about this. In fact, he's looking forward to it. In fact, he _wants _it. "But if _I'm_ right, and you're _not_ better…" He holds her gaze for a long moment, deep, devilish blue locked with competitive dark brown, neither of them willing to break first. It's intense, almost frighteningly so, and if he's ever felt as if he's been playing with fire with this woman, well, it's _now_. "If you're not better than me, you'll come back here with me, after we close this case. You'll come back here with me, and I'll get to teach you _my_ skills, for real."

His voice drops, trailing off at the end to little more than a breathy promise, and the retort is _right there_ on the tip of her tongue. The derisive snort, the sarcastic comment on his so-called skills, everything she lobs back at him every time he opens his mouth. It's _right there_. But there's something about his tone, something about the way his voice sinks so far below the threshold of innocent teasing, drifting into deeper, more forbidden territory that he's been getting braver and braver about exploring, especially as she lets him dig further and further before closing him out. There's _something_ there, something that turns her sharp, witty comeback to little more than dust. And then, she's left sitting there on the sand, watching him, the sparkle in the deep ocean of his eyes telling her with no doubts that he's pretty damn sure he's won this one. And Kensi, well, she can't have that.

She can't go down without a fight, so she says the one and only thing she _can _say now.

"You're on."

* * *

She loses.

Oh dear God, how _badly_ she loses.

She's somewhat unsteady on her feet as she pulls herself from the ocean, hindered a bit by the bulky rental board at her side. Her eyes burn and she can't breathe; she's waterlogged and suddenly completely devoid of energy from struggling to stay above the waves.

And oh, what a struggle it had been because she'd been an utter _disaster._

Maybe it'd been the roughness of the sea, or the wobble in her knees, or maybe just the desperate _need_ to prove that she's better than him at _everything_…she doesn't know. But what she _does_ know, and what she knows _Deeks_ knows, is that she hadn't even made it to her feet for more than a couple of seconds before crashing rather ungracefully into the water.

And Deeks had just _laughed. _He'd laughed at her; he'd mocked her, and just when she'd been sure it couldn't possibly get any worse, he'd effortlessly (and quite perfectly – though she'd never admit it) caught a wave, playing calling out to her, teasing her as he'd shown off those skills of his.

"I believe _that's_ how it's done!" he'd yelled after, flashing her a cocky grin.

_Damn him._

She says nothing to him until they're back to their little patch of sand, a scowl on her face and the utter opposite on his. A grin, a smile, one that's utterly _maddening_, one that only widens as he opens his mouth. "Say it, babe."

"No."

He grabs a towel and tosses it her way. "_Say it,_" he repeats as she dries her face.

"I'm not saying anything." She stands her ground, her words slightly muffled by the towel.

Deeks just shrugs. "That's okay then, I'll say it. I win, Princess." And he has. He's won this one, and the score wasn't even _remotely_ close. "I win, which means I've got a date with you and the blue after all this is over."

Kensi doesn't even reply to that. She can't. _Can't_. Because she can't refute it, and it's her own damn fault. And really, she'd _known_ this was bound to happen. She'd let her own inability to back down from a competition get the best of her, and now she's in trouble and she _knows_ it. The _last_ thing she wants is to be dragged back out there, truly. She can't even see how _anybody_ could find that fun.

God, she _hates_ that he's better than she is, even though considering she'd never even touched a board before today, there'd really been no other possible outcome.

She's angry, annoyed, irritated…and Deeks _loves_ it.

It's not that he loves the _fact_ that she's angry…it's _why_ she's angry. There's no one more competitive than Kensi Blye, and he's said it to her a million times – she gets _incredibly_ grumpy when she loses. Especially to him, which doesn't happen often so he's sure to savor it when she does. And watching her now, as she throws her towel down on the sand and starts tugging at her wetsuit, fire blazing in her dark eyes, he finds he can't really take his eyes off of her. She may be angry, she may be pouting, but she's still nothing less than beautiful. Gorgeous. Within his reach, yet somehow just barely outside of it.

His quiet admiration goes on a second too long, just long enough for her to catch him. Her eyes meet his again as she pulls slowly at the zipper on the front of her suit (God she can't wait to be out of this thing), and abruptly, she feels her anger become…something _else_. She's still angry, still annoyed with him, but there's something else that sparks inside of her as she slowly reveals the pinks and blues of her bikini top. "You know, husbands _don't_ stare at their wives," she reminds him quietly.

She bites her lip then, remembering the first time she'd uttered that sentence. It's the same, yet much, much different than back then…and it's _that_ memory that has her lips curving slightly, despite the irritation she still has with him right now.

But then again, perhaps her irritation has melted away along with his cockiness at being proven right…because she's not seeing that in his eyes anymore. It's somewhat alarming just how quickly he's shifted, she thinks – she's no longer seeing glee at his victory, his superiority, any of that. No, right now, the way he's looking at her brings a slight flood to her cheeks and she can't even make herself look away to try and hide it.

Right now, the look in his deep, ocean blues is probably best described with only one word, she thinks with a shiver: desire. Desire, want, _hunger_. And dammit if the sparks in his eyes don't start a fire deep in her belly because the way he's looking at her now…it's almost as if there aren't a handful of skinny, skimpily-dressed blondes flouncing around the beach just waiting for the knee-weakening charm of his wink or his smile to set their hearts a-flutter.

No. Right now, she's the only one he sees. "Maybe this one does," he says so quietly that the words all but disappear in the cadence of the waves.

Oh, she hears them, though. Hears them loud and clear and quite suddenly, she's feeling uncharacteristically self-conscious as she attempts to shimmy out of her wetsuit, hoping he doesn't see fit to comment on the heat that rises in her cheeks. Kensi _doesn't_ blush; she's not _that_ kind of girl. She's not that giggly, blushy girl who goes weak in the knees with as little as a smile or a wink. That's just not her. And yet, here she is, blushing and feeling kind of _odd_ in light of a simple comment and the intensity in his gaze.

She's got sun poisoning – that's got to be it.

Yeah. This crazy assignment has gotten to her. It's not _him_ at all. It can't be.

Once they're done with this, things will go back to normal, she tells herself. Thinking on that, she goes back to work on her wetsuit. With a bit of effort, she pushes the shoulders of the sleeveless suit down her arms, grimacing as a few strands of her ponytail get caught in the slick material. Once they're free, she slowly slips the top portion away, making sure it doesn't take her bikini top along with it. Of course, he's already out of his completely by the time she starts attempting to push the bottom half over her hips and Kensi scowls – anytime he wants to stop making things look so simple would be just fine with her.

She's about to say something about that (he's proven his point so he doesn't have to _continue_ playing cocky) when he cuts her off, slipping quickly behind her. "Hold on just a second – don't move."

Naturally, her first instinct is to do just the opposite, but as she feels his touch teasingly brush the bare skin of her lower back, Kensi finds she's almost rooted to the spot by the electricity. "What are you doing?" she asks, mildly suspicious.

His fingertips ghost over her skin as he pushes her ponytail over her shoulder. With her hair out of the way, he gently tugs at the strings of her bikini top, slowly pulling the rest of the halfway undone bow free. "Your strings," he murmurs, tugging them playfully. "They got caught under your wetsuit – when you pulled that off, you pulled them loose."

"Oh…" It's really all she can muster as he slowly reties them at the back of her neck. And while she chooses to blame it on the stray drops of cool water dripping from her hair, she knows that the shiver that rushes through her body has very little to do with that, and instead, more to do with his oddly seductive touch and the knowledge of how very close he is to her, in her personal space, his bare chest just millimeters away from her bare back. She can feel him, the heat radiating off of him and she can't help herself as her eyes flutter closed.

And then, if possible, he's even _closer _to her. With her bow securely back in place, he lets his hands drift over her shoulders, teasing a couple of fingers between the strings and the slick, smooth skin just above her collarbone. "That good?" he breathes, and oh God, suddenly his lips are _dangerously_ close to her ear.

He's obviously inquiring about the snugness of the bow, but that doesn't stop her heart from accelerating just a bit and she's certain, oh so certain that he _has_ to feel it, maybe even hear it because for her, it drowns out the waves as it echoes in her ears. Licking her lips and tasting a hint of salt from the sea, Kensi nods slowly, trusting herself to do little more than hum in reply. "Mm-hmm."

"Good," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. "Very good. Because…" She feels him turn his head to the side for a moment, just a brief moment. And then he's turning back to her – she _knows_, because she feels the slight tickle of his scruff against her shoulder. "Seems like you're already attracting quite the audience, my starfish."

"Our suspects?" she breathes, attempting to refocus on the case.

"Our suspects," he affirms, nodding slightly. "But they aren't the only ones." Deeks gives a low chuckle, and despite herself, the sound goes straight to the pit of Kensi's belly. It's a bedroom chuckle, low and secretive and sexy, and oh God how Kensi wishes she could jab an elbow into his stomach right now because he is having _far_ too much fun with this.

She ignores that devious voice in the back of her mind, the one that says Deeks isn't the _only_ one enjoying it.

She's glad for the crash of the waves when his fingertips leave her collarbone in favor of skating seductively down her sides because the whimper that escapes her lips isn't one she could have _ever_ held back, especially not once his touch comes to rest at her hips for just a moment before his arms ensnare her, pulling her back flush against his chest. "Wouldn't want my beautiful wife to get arrested for public indecency," he breathes. And then, with a devious smirk (Kensi can feel it against her skin – _oh_ how she can feel it), he bows his head and presses his lips to her shoulder in a slow, lingering kiss.

His name slips from her lips, but rather than a warning, Deeks takes it as an invitation. It certainly sounds more like the latter, he thinks. God, how he loves these assignments. _Loves_ them, because when else would he have the chance to take his beautiful partner out on the waves? He's been trying to coax her out there for over a year; he'd just come to terms with the disappointing truth that it would never, ever happen.

But, as Kensi always does, she'd surprised him. And though she'd been an utter _disaster_ (when this is over, he'll have to get her out there for a _real_ lesson because truly, she might be the worst surfer _ever_ right now), he still hadn't been able to wipe the grin from his lips.

He releases her only to rest his palms on her hips, seductively teasing the patch of skin just above the bottom of her wetsuit with the pads of his thumbs. "Need help with the bottom?" he breathes.

She swallows hard. "I – I think I've got it," she manages to force out. And even though her mind is hazy at the moment, though she's not even really sure what she's thinking, somehow she manages to reach down and swat his hands away from her. Smirking, he reaches out again, only for her to swat him harder. "I've got it," she repeats, forcing her leaden legs to take a step forward, allowing some much needed cool air to filter between them.

He lifts his hands in surrender. "I was just worried about you having another, ah, _malfunction_," he teases.

He's insufferable, she thinks as she rolls her eyes. Really, truly insufferable. And _he's_ the one who threatens _her_ with reporting human resources violations. Yeah _right_. "In that case I will be very, _very_ careful," she says simply.

True to her word, she is, and the rest of her wetsuit comes off without any further snags - she's much more graceful at that than she is on the board itself, he thinks with a snicker. Just the thought makes him grin, and once they're all packed up with their rentals returned, ready to head inside to get ready for dinner, Deeks drapes an arm around her shoulders as they begin to make their way up the beach, noting that their suspects are still keeping a close eye on both of them…well, mostly Kensi and the expensive diamond on her finger. "I think we've got them," he whispers. "They can't keep their eyes off you now."

Which Kensi is glad for, as that had truly been the point of this entire operation – getting the suspects to take an interest in them. That's why they're here flaunting their supposed wealth, after all – trying to play into their game in order to put a stop to it. There are a thousand replies that come to Kensi's mind – that she's glad they're finally making progress; that she's glad that this means they'll get to go back to their real lives soon, anything. Instead, she grins. "You sound jealous."

He smirks. "Not at all. I know you're mine. I've got a bet on my side, remember?" He snickers, drawing her closer as they walk. "I don't need to be jealous when I know I'm gonna get you back out in the ocean after this is all over."

She scowls. "I don't remember any bet."

Oh, how he loves his petulant partner, so reluctant to admit he's right. "That's okay, Princess," he replies, playfully bumping her hip with his. "Because I remember it."

He does, and there's not a thing in this world that can make him forget it.

She's got another thing coming if she thinks for even a _second_ that he won't be collecting his winnings.

* * *

_**tbc**_


End file.
